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The Clash
The Orcs and the Humans were not always enemies, but at one time a sort of ally and trading partner. It all began with King Wade DePure and Warchief Gy'ud. The desert was right next to the plains the humans inhabited, and being so close together both leaders knew they would have to come to some sort of agreement to keep themselves from certain warfare. The idea of war surely did not come along at first. However, eventually a few events would change history and the orc to human relationship forever. The Dark Trade Humans have proven to be quite greedy, especially in the time when their land was still being built and their resources were low. Sand is a huge resource in the desert, so the orcs had no use for it. Pounds and pounds of sand were carried to the humans who would use it for things like glass. For the orcs, wood was a rare resource. Although they could travel outside of the desert to get wood, it would never be as fresh or moist being so close to the desert. So in the end, the orcs would trade their sand for human's wood. However, after a while the humans found a way to cheat the system. The humans needed wood just as much as the orcs, it was their motive. Wood that went dry or was of the wrong color was sent to the orcs, in return the orcs felt as if they were getting secondhand products, a feeling nobody likes. And so the orc's judgement begins. The Children's Affair In fear of their certain clash, the two leaders allowed for thier sons to become friends in order to have some reason to fall back upon that would keep them from warfare. Many "playdates" were arranged and the two children played. It was quite obvious the Warchief Dev'nog was feeding his son negative information about humans simply because the orcish child never would come to like the human child. In fact, the orc would go as far as bullying the child physically. So not only did the orc hate the humans from his father's word, but now the human child hated orcs just as much as the orc hated the humans! The human child would grow up to play quite an important role in King Maidenway's reign, the same reign that many rogue attacks on orcs occured. When consulted about the situation, the once boy, Sir Davis, replied that he did condone it. Mishaps The hatred of a few different beings would change history. The small rogue attacks and snude remarks would push the orcs to invade.The one battle, backed by anger and steel, decided the two race's relationship forever. Still today, after many battles, the relationships of the two races are no better than before, in fact, they are worse than ever. It had been a long day at work for Brandon, and he was quite tired. The sun had been beating down on his neck for hours, and he could already begin to feel that familiar burning sensation he had every day. As he shoved his hoe into the ground, he put his hands on his hips, and gazed at the land around him. Asatar Fields had once been a bloody battleground, the site of many gruesome conflicts between his people and the Orcs, but now the humans had finally won it. He and his fellow workers had been ordered to till the field, and make it into a new farmland for the kingdom. They had been at the job for a few days now, for the Asatar Fields were massive. They weren’t even halfway done. Brandon took a gulp of water from his canteen, and returned to tilling the soil. It was then that he heard a cry, and looked up from his job yet again. Many of the other farmers were shouting, and sprinting through the fields, pitchforks and hoes in hand. He had no idea what all the commotion was about. Looking to where the desert meets field, his guess was correct. Warchief Dev’nog led his furious horde through the fields, axes raised and fire in their eyes. The war drummers stood beside him, pounding out a steady beat as the bloodthirsty crowd of green-skinned orcs stormed through the fields, ready to make heads roll. The Chieftain wanted the fields back, for they were sacred grounds to their people, and so Dev’nog would give the fields to him. They would be splattered with blood, but they would still be theirs. He narrowed his eyes and snorted, seeing the helpless pinkskins fleeing from their jobs. He shouted a command in thick orcish, and two archers knocked a crooked, jagged arrow each, and let them fly. The arrows whistled through the air, and hit their targets, in the legs. They didn’t want to kill them so impersonally. They wanted to see the fear in their eyes as their axes split their skulls. Another shout, and the rabble picked up speed, now in a full sprint. The humans stood no chance, and Dev’nog knew it. Moments later, blood and gore was flying through the air as the orcish horde claimed their victims, now mangled corpses lying on the ground. A trumpet blared, and a glimmer of blue and white raced down a nearby hill. The reinforcements had arrived. The horses transitioned into a full gallop, now heading full speed towards the huge mass of green, red, black, and brown. Leading the charge was Sir Davis, a knight famous for his exploits involving the orcs. He had been sent, because he was an expert; no filthy monster could stand up to him. The horses finally collided with the mob, and all hell broke loose. Men screamed, orcs shouted, and horses fell over because their limbs and been removed. Davis watched as his steed, Brightmane, was decapitated swiftly by a ceremonially-dressed orc with warpaint and a huge axe. Brightmane’s body fell, and so Davis was crushed underneath his weight. His best friend in life had become his downfall in death. Davis yelped, and cried for help, but no one was paying attention- his men were too busy being slaughtered. He then saw the orc that killed Brightmane approach him, grinning, his huge, decorated tusks red with blood. He said something in garbled orcish, laughed, and then brought a huge, metal-plated foot up in the air above Davis’ head. Davis stared in horror, swallowed his fears, and closed his eyes. Crunch. Written By: Merrymoogle; Edited By: GavLan